A Wizard's Full Potential
by juliasejanus
Summary: A different life for Tom Riddle. In September 1939, all the children at Wool's Orphanage were evacuated. After third year ends, Tom was evacuated and starts a new life in America, far from Hogwarts, where fortune smiles on him. Lord Slytherin returns to London in 1979, not as a dark lord but as an enlightened upstart in a Britain, where pureblood politics has run rampant.
1. Chapter 1

Martin Lasalle was the Magical Attache at the Embassy of United States of America. It was a quite problematical appointment dealing with a closed and completely archaic society. He had enough foresight to know that The British Ministry of magic did little to nothing to care for any muggle raised children. He and his Canadian colleague were meeting the Hogwarts Express to see if any orphans or muggle-borns had slipped through the evacuation net. All children in the capital and major cities had been evacuated on mass last September. Some of the children arriving home today would have no where to go to as they had fallen through the muggle evacuation system and neither Headmaster Dippet nor Minister Cavanagh cared for muggle problems, as magical families took care of their own.

Olive Hornby and Tom Riddle stood to the side at Kings Cross Station out of the way of families collecting their sons and daughters, nieces, nephews and cousins. Olive sniffed, she had no idea who was collecting her. The dark haired first year lived in Portsmouth. Her father was in the Merchant Navy and her mother had stopped answering her letters. She had spouted forth her entire disgusting muggle background to Tom Riddle, focusing on the boy who made hand me downs into smart clothes through his excellent spellwork. He could pass for upper middle class, not the boy who had grown up Wool's workhouse and orphanage in Bethnal.

The prefects in Slytherin and Hufflepuff had not cared about the two outsiders. Nor did many care of the War between Germany and Britain, nor the fall of France. Grindelwald, as a foreign Dark Lord, hardly concerned then as the present Ministry of Magic policy was isolationist in the extreme, with no aid or help for those fleeing the growing terror.

At 4:35, the concourse by platforms 9 and 10 had cleared. Only the two children remained. The smartly dressed diplomat then approached with Madam Pilkington-Smith, his Canadian counterpart.

"Good Evening, young sir, miss. My name is Mr. Lasalle. This is Madam Pilkington-Smith. We are representatives of the International Confederation of Wizards Red Cross Committee for Orphans and Evacuees. You require lodgings and we will see where to send you. I take it you are both muggle born?"

Tom looked a bit cross, it was typical that the Matron and not informed him that his lodgings had changed. He knew she corresponded with the school occasionally, but he was nearly 14, old enough to apprentice or get a job. Schooling for his sort was a luxury. "I can find employment and lodgings for myself, Mr. Lascalle." Riddle stated stiffly.

"We'll go to the Canadian Embassy for tea, shall we. You both look hungry. There we will see what our option are." The grey haired witch stated firmly. Madam Smith was of a mind that magical children were educated to their full potential and this young wizard was wearing a full set of self transfigured clothes. This boy was talented and if those fools at Hogwarts were happy to leave him to fend for himself they did not derive such a prize pupil.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore took his time to read the in depth article on the new Ambassador for the International Confederation of Wizards, Tom Marvolo Riddle. This mage class diplomat was the Lord of the Ancient and Cunning Houses of Slytherin, Peverell and Gaunt. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry remembered a cold and calculating workhouse raised waif. A boy who had not returned to the school for his fourth year in September 1940. His absence had passed without any comment from the staff at the time, including Albus himself. The Battle of Britain had ravaged muggle London. Those in muggle unwarded households were at high risk, several muggleborns had perished during the war.

The article stated the fourteen year old orphan had been adopted by the Potion Master and Alchemist Heracles Daimler and that he had graduated Top of his class from the New England College of Magical Achievement in 1944. Daimler was another name from the past, a class mate of Aberforth, another orphan. Obviously he had emigrated and made his fortune abroad.

The old man sat in his office at Hogwarts Castle and stroked his beard, lost in memories for a moment before putting down the paper. The International Edition of the Prophet was getting harder and harder to procure. Albus was lucky as the British Representative of the ICW he had unrestricted mail and access to publications the Ministry restricted. Minister Bartemious Crouch was an extreme isolationist, a man trying to ban muggle born and raised students from the magical world altogether. The reason Riddle was coming to Britain was part of the ICW's campaign to keep relations open and they were playing a very subtle game. None of the pureblood traditionalists could dispute a man of such a fine pedigree. A scholar, a man with years of public service and one as wealthy as the Malfoy's.

It was likely that the Black's would pull their support from Crouch when the Heir of the Founders arrived to take up his seats in the Wizengamot. So, would the other ultra-traditionalists, following the lead of Arcturus and his chosen heir, young Regulus. Only Tom Riddle was a man who had worked as a Liaison for Gringott's on Wall Street, a man at home with muggles and one who would push to change Britain to emulate their role model.

When the then Transfiguration Professor had introduced that boy to the magical world he had seen a bully and a petty thief. The man before him was not the muggle raised boy who had won the respect of Slytherin House nearly forty years ago. Tom Riddle had been the favourite of Horace Slughorn, but had few close friends. None of his contemporaries were allies to the boy with no family to speak of. Now, it was common knowledge he was the last heir of Slytherin through the impoverished Gaunt family and also the Head of House Peverell. He had also sued to inherit his muggle father's estate in 1969. The last member of his mother's family, Morphin had died three years ago naming his sister's only child as heir to the few remaining heirlooms. There were rumours that Mr. Riddle had 'invested heavily' to help Zadok Smith out of a sticky spot last year. The only connection was the fact Smith was also a Founder's heir. The headmaster normally did not give credence to rumours, but Zadok in five years had reduced the once extensive wealth of his old family to mere sickles. His second wife now ran the family business quite successfully. He was Head of Family but with limited influence, still in the Wizengamot and aligned with the hard line pureblood faction.

Dumbledore had little influence in that chamber these days. The old families, even the more liberal ones, like the Potters, the Longbottoms and the Bones did not defer to him. As Chief Warlock he was a mere figurehead.

…..

If anyone at Hogwarts had even suggested that Tom Marvolo Riddle would become and remain friends with a muggleborn Hufflepuff when he had been a pupil in those hallowed halls, he would have cursed them with a borderline dark hex. His life had turned out completely differently than his goal plan at fourteen years old, which had been to make Prefect for Slytherin, become Head Boy and later a government clerk advancing to Minister of Magic. In America, he had worked for Gringott's of all places before accepting the honourable position as an Advisor with the Department of Magical Affairs, the American version of the Ministry. He may yet make Minister of Magic as he had never renounced the land of his birth, even though he abhorred its continued policy of isolationism and segregation. He had been shown a whole new world when he had been evacuated to the United States in 1940. A Land of Promise, Opportunity and true cunning, where magical beings lived and worked in plain sight, never hiding and fully aware of the non-magical world and its fast advancing technology and progress. Easier to integrate than to segregate in such a diverse country and large population, when each magical was outnumbered by over a thousand to one.

The tall dark haired wizard was dressed conservatively in a Ralph Lauren suit, when he exited the boat-train at Waterloo, carrying an overnight bag and briefcase. He had travelled by rail and ferry from Paris as he hated all forms of flying, whether by plane, broom or carpet. He had travelled by Portkey to Switzerland, the only place in Europe to still have open magical routes of transport as International Relations between America and Europe had not reopened after the Fall of Grindelwald.

On the busy concourse, a handsome woman in her fifties waved when she spotted her oldest friend, one she had regularly corresponded with since 1940. Olive Channing, nee Hornby, had married well; a Canadian Wizard in the Foreign Office in Ottawa. She had chosen a genteel life of fundraising and sitting on the Board of Charities to fill her days. She was currently on the Board at St. Mungo's while her husband worked for the Canadian Embassy. She found it hilarious that witches who would not even talk to muggles or muggleborns conversed and accepted her as a tame foreigner, never realising she had attended Hogwarts, if only for one year. A year where she had been teased, bullied and ostracised mercilessly for being muggle born, poor and plain.

"Olive darling, you look wonderful." He had watched that frightened young witch blossom into a formidable woman, one who ably helped her husband achieve his goals. A very traditional marriage of its time, but a loving one. Things were slowly changing, young women now strived for careers of their own. This witch was a one woman analyst and handler. She could arrange anything and had a knack of knowing far more than her demeanour suggested, as she forgot nothing, made connections and dug the dirt when necessary. Most viewed her as a mere wife, but she was the backbone information gathering for the ICW.

"Its so nice to wear normal clothes. I swear robes are made to restrict your movement, its practically torture to endure to wear them. If it wasn't for the blessing of the more avant-garde Parisian designs I would stay in London as a boring housewife who only attended bridge club."

"Come now, I know you secretly love all those lunches and charity board meetings with those society wives. I hear you are close to Lady Malfoy."

"I prefer her sister, Andromeda. Ms. Tonks is a junior partner with Splinter, Brogue and Tellman, the best legal practice in London. We meet regularly over fostering and adoption issues. You should join us for dinner to met her."

"Are you matchmaking, Mrs Channing?"

"No, I know better, darling. Ms. Tonks is happily married. Her husband is a writer, crime novels of all things. Like most muggle borns, he wants nothing to do with the closed minds of British magical society. Andromeda was disowned for daring to want a work. Ted Tonks was her means to an end, otherwise she'd have been married to Genesis Flint, a truly awful man. Tonks is a talented, handsome fellow and quite happy to have a successful working wife. Here I am gossiping, come you must see your new London home, located in Spitalfields. Its a fabulous Georgian terrace. Three house elves, two domestic and one as valet. I have hired you a personal assistant as well. She will live in. I sent you her Curriculum Vitae. Head girl, Gryffindor prefect, top student in her year by far. Her NEWTS grades are truly excellent as you know. She also can transcribe in Pitman shorthand, can touch type and is interested in Computers of all things."

"Yes, Ms. Lily Elanor Evans. I can't wait to meet her."


	3. Chapter 3

For the first nine months after graduation, Lily had worked as a temp in the muggle world, like her mother had in Cokeworth. In London, the jobs were varied and with her skills, her pay was fairly high considering she was only 18. Much higher than any starting position in the magical world for a muggleborn. She was thankful she had been taught typing and shorthand by her mother, along with cooking and dress-making, all skills gained during her school holidays. Lily had held down a full time job in the summers since her fourth year for an estate agents in Halifax, a bus ride from home.

As the top student at school she may have dreamt of an apprenticeship or internship, but as a muggleborn she knew opportunities were slim, despite the reassurances of her friend Alice Longbottom or her teachers Horace Slughorn, Filius Flitwick or Minerva McGonagall. In truth, most muggle born and muggle raised half bloods were expected to enter trades, even an apprenticeship was a long shot in the narrow, bigoted and a very closed shop where family connections were everything. In the underground network of connections between the outcasts of magical society, Lily had met Ted Tonks and his wife, Andromeda. Through them her CV had passed through the channels where blood meant nothing and skills meant everything.

She knew her new appointment was not just as a PA or secretary but as a recruit for the network of operatives working to prevent the rise of another Grindelwald and to keep a check on the blood supremacists lead by the Black, Lestrange and Malfoy families.

The tall willowy titian haired young witch had settled on a dark suit and white blouse, play and functional matched with dark tights and court shoes. She put her long hair into a bun and opted for powder and a neutral lipstick, rather than full make-up. She wanted to give the impression of efficient, she could dress if the occasion needed it. This was her first day and first impressions counted. She was not just a pretty young thing, not with an IQ of 146.

The house was a play three storey Georgian terrace in the city. It had dirty windows and the exterior looked careworn, but as she had found out at eleven appearances, where magic was concerned were deceiving. The heavy oak door opened as soon as she knocked. She was shocked to see the hall was lit by electric light. She noted the runic array protecting the 1950's fuse box. Such mixing of magical safeguards on muggle technology was entirely foreign in Europe. This American raised halfblooded Lord of the Houses Slytherin, Gaunt and Peverell was unlike any wizard she had met. She suddenly felt giddy with excitement about her new job.

…

The Leaky Cauldron was very crowded. It was Friday night and most had finished work and were either eating or having a few drinks before heading home. James Potter was nursing a butterbeer as he looked at his watch again. Lily, the most punctual girl in the world, was forty minutes late. The dark haired wizard was still dressed in his work robes, of an apprenticed Auror. He had been in a rush, sure his girlfriend would have already been sat waiting for him. He was hungry, but waited as he remembered it had been a hard fought battle to get Miss Evans to even date him and he now started worrying that his love spent so much time in the muggle word she might want to forget about him altogether. It wasn't his fault she couldn't get a decent job or apprenticeship. The stupid rules at Hogwarts stated the teachers could not take apprentices and he knew at least four of the teachers had tried really hard to get Lily a mastership in either Arithmancy, Runes, Potions or Charms. James Potter would sing her praises to all except he was just a trainee, he was due to pass in January to be a Junior level Auror. He hated the fact they could not date openly, Charles Potter was a patient man but he had feet in two camps, to follow family and tradition or to follow his heart. Time was running out at Christmas his father was hosting a ball, it was the start of the formal courting season. His father wanted his son married and the current political climate meant he had to marry a wizarding raised witch. As heir of Potter and Peverell houses, he was a sort after groom of impeccable lineage and comfortable wealth and influential political position. The tall dark haired aurora trainee shuddered at the thought of marrying any of his second, third or fourth cousins. New blood was needed and he hoped his father would settle on a foreign bride since the 'Bloodline Preservation Act' meant he could not marry his love, his beautiful Lily. The witch would most likely be a good companion and mother, but the witch who he was hand-fasted to, who was his hearts-desire, though society would call her a harlot, a mistress or a concubine. She was brilliant and fearless, a true lioness. He dreaded his impending engagement. It was a technicality to Lily Evans, the fact they could not legally bond, she stated that 'living in sin' was acceptable and normal for muggle. If only life was so carefree and without obligations and duty for the Potter heir. He was an only child, the son of an only child. No well raised witch would have lost her maidenhood before marriage. The passing of that god forbidden legislation banning muggle or muggle-borns marrying above their station had been the day they had started their doomed love affair. No wife, however meek, would stand to be cuckholded or the chance that the other woman would be blessed with magical children.

He ordered a shot of fire whiskey. He would talk to Lily tonight, break it gently to her that the future was one of stolen moments, but the truth was his father would not understand his choice of love and desire over the stability of magical Britain. He was a Lord and had to marry within his station. She could offer no dowry, no family heirlooms, no grimoire and no pedigree. The elders of the Wizangamot had decreed that the weakening of bloodlines had to stop, the rumour was a 'Suitable Marriage Act' was scheduled for the next session with the Ministry acting as matchmaker. He would be forced to marry one of his prim and proper cousins for sure. His father arranging his marriage at Yule was the lesser of the possible evil. His father had already had half the dowagers in France, Ireland and Britain arranging his 'match". He would give anything to live a simple life with his darling flower.

The cloaked figure who flooed into the dingy bar was dressed in high quality robes, haute couture from Paris. Her hair dressed in a simple but elegant chinon. The titian haired, lithe and tall form of Lily Elanor Evans, on first glance could pass for 'pureblood', but in the small and narrow minded magical community everyone knew exactly who she was, an upstart mudblood with ideas above her station. She walked into the Leaky Cauldron and paused until James made eye contact. She walked upstairs to Room 8. Tom had already laid out supper and dressed the room with two bouquets. In eight minutes, her lover would join her. They could not even talk in public. Their love reduced to stolen moments and whispered conversations over communication mirrors when truly alone. Lily knew she was playing with fire and that she would get burnt, but it was thrilling and dangerous and she believed, in her heart of hearts that love would conquer all.


	4. Chapter 4

A pair of pale slim hands were busy filing. Her office was a small anteroom of her employers larger and very sumptuous study, which connected to the large library, full of books banned by Ministry as dark, subversive or seditious. Even owning 'muggle' books was frowned upon by the present administration. Lily herself could be imprisoned for having O'Levels and A'Levels. She, after her first year at Hogwarts, had decided to hedge her bets as she did not want a life of a servant or manual labourer. Her straight O's in her magical qualifications, had served to close doors, not open them, since no shop owner wanted staff visibly more intelligent than themselves. Of all the taunts and curses she had suffered at school, Lily could not forgive her former best friend Severus for lying to her, convincing her that the magical world was wonderful. That her non-magical parents were of no consequence. Magic was the only thing that mattered. It had broken her heart when even, he had called her mudblood. Now all would call her a whore; as soon there would be no disguising her predicament as an unmarried mother. Life was growing in her belly, a son. She had not told her ex, but James was contracted to marry Maribelle Sante-Bellevoix. They last met at Halloween and made their goodbyes. The pregnancy was not planned, Lily had brewed and ingested a contraceptive potion since sixth year. No this was a child borne of love, when Lily could only legally consort with her own kind.

The auburn haired witch continued to manually organise the day's diary, then sort through all outstanding matters. She tried to keep busy, arriving early and working into the evening for the past two months to keep her mind off her broken heart. She was not angry with James, just calm and resigned. He was a pureblood heir after all and an only child. She had slept with him because she had known true love, even if it had been fleeting and deliciously forbidden. She would always have those perfect twenty-seven months, when it had been James and Lily and nothing else had mattered. Her hand swept over her cheek to roughly brush off the stray tears. She would not, could not break down. She would become indispensable as the perfect PA to Thomas, as Lord Slytherin insisted she call him here in his home. If she was irreplaceable, she would be invited to work for him in America. Her dream was to escape narrow minded, bigoted and flawed Britain. The clock in the hall then chimed 9, and Lily got her shorthand pad and took the general post through to her boss. He would be ready to dictate replies to the routine correspondence from various organisations, companies and individuals eager to be in the good graces of the Lord of Slytherin, the ICW representative and rising star of the Wizengamot.

She was surprised to see an early morning visitor as she had heard no murmur conversation, under the tell tale presence of any privacy wards, nor noted the arrival of the silver haired wizard, who was dressed in fine robes of deepest purple. Lord Slytherin's guest was in mourning and must have arrived by his warded floor, directly into the office

Tom Marvolo Riddle-Gaunt smiled at the punctual arrival of his very able personal secretary. "Good morning Miss Evans, I would like to introduce my cousin, Lord Charles Potter."

She quickly put her pad, pen and outstanding letters on the console and dropped into a deep courtesy. "My Lords, my humble apologies for disturbing you."

"Please sit for tea. We have much to discuss concerning family matters. Matters that we require your council and agreement on."

She stood up to see the piercing caramel toned eyes of Charlus Potter weighing her up. As the man was both her senior in standing and years, he had not greeted 'the staff'. A man of good manners would never lower themselves to be familiar with the lower orders. He did however offer the slightest of nods. It was more of a greeting than she expected. She was worried what family matters needed a witness present, as no court in Britain would count her testimony as valid.

Tom motioned for the witch to sit, and with a casual wave he wandlessly poured tea for her, just the way she liked it. "As you know, on my seventeenth birthday magic granted me Lordship for my maternal line. My mother was the last Gaunt Heiress, but more importantly, as a mage I met the criteria to claim the older family titles, after many generations of exclusion. As you know, the Potter family had held the Peverell vault in trust for four centuries until a worthy heir was declared. So, Charlus and I are old friends. I had hoped to name James as my heir. Alas that is unlikely to happen considering his ill considered choice of bride."

All colour drained from Lily's face. The porcelain cup shook in her hands. Her dalliance with James Potter would see her imprisoned for sure. She was a Gryffindor and calmed herself to face her fate.

Her employer continued, "It seems James has fallen foul of the twin evils of compliance and acceptance."

For the first time the older wizard spoke. "I, like his late wife wanted James to defy the present laws and misguided decorum to marry his soul mate and to follow his heart, all others be damned. My darling Dorea followed her heart many years ago and defied her father to marry the second son of House Potter and not my elder brother, whom she was contracted to. The thing is magic and love go hand in hand. My darling brother Giraldus was an absolute rogue. I loved him and mourned him when he died before time. There was no quarrel between us as he had no wish to marry any woman. Family magic and conditions of that contract meant James was not conceived until after my brother died. I was willing to defy my family obligations to marry for love. I was persona non grata in society for years, but all and sundry forgot my misdemeanour when I became Lord and by chance fulfilled the criteria of a blasted contract by fault rather than design. I fear my son thinks marrying some witch who meets the Ministry's ridiculous criteria will preserve our family's good name and continued good fortune." With a long drink of tea, Charlus relaxed. On putting his cup down he turned the cup on its side and then stared at his tea leaves. "James has thrown true love away with a stupid excuse of a lawful union. That child growing in your belly is the future Lord of three houses. There are no approved matches where magic is concerned, only love and compatibility and love is stronger than the foundations of the Earth. I'm afraid that your pregnancy was never secret as Ancient, Honourable and Noble Houses have magically updating family trees."

Tom poured another cup of darjeeling and filled in his secretary on her choices. "So, Lily. You may think you are independent and free of 'family concerns' but there is the rather pressing problem that I am childless and will remain so. No child will be born from my loins. Sterililty is an unfortunate side affect of children conceived when their fathers are dosed with illegal love potions. So, we have a problem as James will be cursed for denying love, his marriage will be childless and he signed a marriage contract without consulting his father, Gringotts or myself on the compatibility of that union."

Lily took a sip of drink and wondered how this unfortunate situation would resolve itself "I am muggle born. I cannot legally bear an heir."

Tom Marvolo Riddle smiled. "Not here in Britain, but I am unfortunately going to be called back to America with urgent family business. You of course shall accompany me, if you so wish. You have a choice, in fact several choices. I or Charles can blood adopt your child, and he will be a legal heir. Only children of comparable family magic can be adopted in that way and no it is not illegal in America. Then you remain free to work, marry and live in America as I will secure you citizenship. Secondly, we could marry and I raise your child as my own. You will be my consort in all things, but this would be your only child. Thirdly you could take your chances here and run the chance of imprisonment and your child be treated as a muggleborn, with no legal rights to Potter, Peverell or Slytherin titles."


End file.
